


No Words Needed

by WardenRoot



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Green Arrow and the Canaries (TV)
Genre: F/F, Light Smut, Pre-Relationship, Smut, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23327590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WardenRoot/pseuds/WardenRoot
Summary: After a close brush with death, Dinah finds herself lying awake thinking about her life in 2040
Relationships: Dinah Drake/Earth-2 Laurel Lance
Comments: 6
Kudos: 83





	No Words Needed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AvaHasAClosetMurderBoard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaHasAClosetMurderBoard/gifts).



Dinah rubs at her throat, still feeling the metal of the knife pressed against it despite it having long since been removed. She’s pretty sure if she looked in the mirror she would have a scratch where the blade pushed just too hard, but there’s no blood and all she really wants to do is sleep.

Laurel walks out of the elevator first, immediately discarding pieces of her Canary suit in Dinah’s living room. They haven’t talked about the instance for the entirety of the duration back home. Haven’t talked about the cry that nearly killed Dinah’s attacker with the force of it, the one Dinah can still hear ringing in her ears. Haven’t talked about how one misstep almost led to Dinah’s throat being sliced open.

She debates if she should say something now, but Laurel is already down to just her pants and tank top, and she throws herself down on Dinah’s couch without so much as a word. They’re both tired, and Dinah can’t find it in herself to break the silence to  _ talk _ about this. Instead, she offers Laurel a nod and makes her way up the stairs, starting to pull off her own suit in the process.

Sleep does not come easy. In fact, tonight it’s decided not to come at all. The scene from their patrol keeps replaying in Dinah’s mind, along with thoughts of what could have happened if Laurel hadn’t acted when she did. Dinah’s hand clutches her throat again, mind drifting to what feels like another lifetime now. She still hasn’t gotten properly used to there not being a line drawn across it, and she hates to think of history repeating itself.

Of course, tonight there would have been no Curtis or his balls to close the wound.

She tries to will the thoughts away, but they refuse to leave her. It’s not like she’s a stranger to close calls — a life of undercover followed by a life of vigilantism has met her with plenty. But she hasn’t ever had this much to lose, to leave behind. She hasn’t even gathered the courage to tell Laurel how she feels yet.

Pulling her blanket around herself, she imagines Laurel’s arms draped around her body. She doesn’t want to die without ever having felt it. Of course, she doesn’t know that Laurel feels the same. But she sure as hell doesn’t want to ever die without finding out.

After a few more minutes of twisting and turning, the blanket falls away and her feet hit the floor. Her mind doesn’t catch up with why until she’s halfway down the stairs, catching Laurel’s gaze. Apparently she hasn’t had much luck sleeping either. Tearing her eyes away, she continues down the rest of the steps.

Laurel pushes up on her elbows as Dinah approaches, and Dinah’s lips fall open, looking for anything to say. She can’t find any that would fit, that would be  _ enough _ for what she’s feeling. And Laurel doesn’t either, simply observing Dinah with an indecipherable look on her face. Giving up on her hunt for words, Dinah simply extends her right hand, hoping Laurel will take it.

There is a palm pressed against her own in seconds, the grip of Laurel’s hand starting out loose and tentative, but gradually growing stronger. Dinah pulls on it, firm despite the lack of strength put into it, and Laurel obliges, sliding herself into a seated position only to use Dinah’s hand to pull herself up.

Dinah’s thumb glides across the back of Laurel’s hand, feeling the soft skin as they take a few moments to just stand there. Biting her lip, Dinah turns around and starts on a path back to her bedroom. As she walks, her arm extends backwards, holding onto Laurel’s hand as distance forms between them. When it’s almost at its full length, Dinah fears that Laurel will stay behind, her fingers slipping from Dinah’s grip.

A fresh wave of relief washes through her as her arm grows slacker, Laurel’s quiet steps finally following behind her. It doesn’t take them long to get upstairs, the journey as wordless as the rest of the night has been. Once there, Dinah keeps her grip on Laurel’s hand tight as she crawls back into bed, Laurel’s body following just the same as it had done when they were walking.

They both settle on their side, Dinah on her right and Laurel on her left, facing each other, with Dinah’s right hand still clinging onto Laurel’s left. Dinah wants to use her left hand for  _ something _ : stroke Laurel’s cheek, pull her body closer, or maybe brush away those short locks that have fallen in front of Laurel’s face. But before she can, Laurel’s right hand reaches out. Dinah holds her breath as a single finger traces at her throat, right where her scar used to be. She closes her eyes as she loses herself to the sensation, something oddly calming about Laurel’s touch  _ there _ .

Her heartbeat slows impossibly when the touch changes from a single finger to Laurel’s entire hand, moving from her throat to cup her jaw. She feels Laurel move closer, their arms readjusting to accommodate it but their hold on each other never breaking. Her eyes open again when Laurel stops, their bodies just a couple inches away from each other. Holding her gaze, Laurel moves even closer still, only letting up when they’re nearly touching and Laurel’s lips are oh so close to Dinah’s.

She pauses for what feels like an eternity then, and Dinah realizes she’s waiting. Waiting for Dinah to choose — take the next step or pull away and pretend this never happened. Part of her wants to laugh at the absurdity of her ever choosing the latter, but the whole situation makes her heart swell. Without as much as a second thought, she closes the distance between them fully, her left hand reaching for Laurel’s waist to pull them closer together as their lips touch, electricity sparking wherever their bodies meet.

Laurel pushes into her, making Dinah roll onto her back with Laurel following closely, ending up on top of her. The hand still held by Laurel is pinned next to her head as a thumb on her jaw coerces her mouth open, allowing Laurel’s tongue entry. Dinah moves her free hand under Laurel’s tank top, dragging the tips of her fingers up her back and taking the tank top with her. Laurel’s hand moves from her jaw to slide down her body, stopping to feel Dinah’s breast through her tank. Dinah responds by sucking on Laurel’s tongue, eager to see what sorts of reactions she can pull out of her. It rewards her with a breathless moan. 

When Laurel regretfully pulls away to allow them both to catch their breaths, Dinah takes a moment to look her over in the low light coming from the outside. Her hair is all kinds of messy, her usual green eyes dark where they stare at Dinah hungrily, with a hint of something softer in them. Her tank has been pulled so far up that it is only covering her breasts, and Dinah gets the urge to tear it off her. But, that would require their hands to stop touching, and Dinah isn’t ready for that just yet. It’s ridiculous, but she can’t help but feel breaking their hands apart would be breaking the moment as well.

Instead, she lifts her head and places a kiss on Laurel’s jaw, working her way down to her neck as Laurel exposes it for her. Laurel responds by squeezing down on her breast, kneading it as Dinah’s tongue finds Laurel's skin and Laurel’s leg is pushed in between Dinah’s. Dinah moans as Laurel’s thigh pushes against her, and it takes her until that moment to realize how much this is working her up. With the realization, she moves her left hand back down Laurel’s back, over the curve of her ass, only stopping when she reaches her thigh, trying to push it more firmly against herself.

Laurel chuckles lowly, moving her hand from Dinah’s breast back up to her jaw, pushing her lips away from Laurel’s neck. Dinah would protest, but it all dies in her throat as Laurel’s mouth is back on hers, kissing her fervently. Her hand travels back down Dinah’s body, but instead of stopping at Dinah’s breast, it travels all the way down to her abs. 

As opposed to Laurel for some reason thinking it a good idea to sleep in her leather pants, Dinah had taken hers off in favor of just sleeping in her boyshorts. Laurel wastes no time taking advantage of that, her fingers easing underneath the edge of Dinah’s underwear as her thigh lets up. Dinah’s teeth dig into Laurel’s lower lip and her fingers clench down on Laurel’s hand as Laurel makes contact with the heat awaiting her, her fingers slowly exploring.

Dinah drags her hand back up, creeping it around to Laurel’s front when she reaches the edge of her pants. Eager to explore  _ Laurel’s _ body, she quickly undoes her pants and slips her hand inside. She moans into Laurel’s mouth as her fingers are enveloped in wetness, pushing into her folds. Deciding there will be plenty of time to properly explore later, Dinah starts up a gentle pressure against Laurel’s clit as her own hips grind against Laurel’s hand.

She takes her time at first, they both do, trying to learn the other’s body, hyper-aware of any reactions to their motions. But it doesn’t take long for the pressure to keep building, the need for release growing greater, and the increasing roughness with which they touch each other. At some point, their kiss changes to being more just them panting at each other. All Dinah can think about is how good Laurel’s fingers feel, how  _ close _ she is, and how much she  _ needs _ Laurel to fall apart under her touch.

She bites down on her tongue to keep her own orgasm at bay, resulting in the speed of Laurel’s fingers increasing. Dinah screws her eyes shut then, willing Laurel to let her have this as she works to get Laurel as close as she is. Laurel finally falls apart above her, moaning out Dinah’s name as her fingers dig into the back of Dinah’s hand, and Dinah’s eyes fly open to watch her. It’s the first time any of them have spoken since the incident — if it can even be called speaking — and hearing her name on Laurel’s lips like  _ this _ is the last push Dinah needs, and her orgasm comes crashing down as Laurel’s fingers continue to move against her, drawing out every last shudder of pleasure they can.

When they’re both done, Laurel rolls back onto her side, moving their joined hands under her head as she pulls at Dinah’s waist with the other, making her roll over to face her. Dinah smiles at her, pushing closer to steal another kiss. If she had her way, she would spend the last few hours of night getting to know every inch of Laurel’s body, but the events of the day finally catch up with her and she finds herself too tired to do anything more than push her head underneath Laurel’s, resting her forehead against her collarbone as her limbs grow heavy and sleep takes her.


End file.
